He Never Will
by gem girl
Summary: Lucilla's thoughts after the movie, summarizing the relationship and her feelings about Maximus....please read...I beg of you...please


He Never Will  
Perhaps after all these years he's forgiven me. Perhaps he understands, but how could he? He wasn't there, he didn't feel that pain, that heartache that tore me apart. I gave him up for Rome. Rome, the eternal city, and some times I wonder if it was worth it. Maybe he understands, maybe he doesn't, maybe he did the entire time, and we were both pawns. Maybe he never will.  
I will not say I was young and innocent, and blame it on the Fates. Even though cruel they are, I refuse to let them have the last word. I have the knowledge of what tore us apart, what shattered my past, pride. And pride alone. Pride is the cruel one, it made me too high to say two simple words, I'm sorry.   
I will not even begin to tell of what happened in Gaul between us, for it is a blur. A blur of painful memories. Or maybe subconsciously I remember it all, but my heart forbids my mind to remember. It would be too painful.   
Did I wound him, or did he wound me? I'm not quite sure, but something tells me, that we hurt each other, equally. Shattered each other. I hurt him, by not telling him of Lucius asking for my hand, maybe because I thought I could refuse him. What was I thinking? I was born a princess, and with the servants, and the riches, and the palaces, and so-called high life, there comes a price. A terrible, terrible price, my heart. He hurt me in return, by claiming he never loved me. He said he used me, and I was just a useless girl in fine robes. I forgave him as soon as he said it, because I knew he said it out of anger and pain, only what I caused. But, now as I dwell upon it, perhaps he really meant what he said. If he meant it, I do deserve it, I played with his emotions like a toy, but I fell for him too. I couldn't be my usual sly, sneaky self, when I was with him. Everything I said to him of how I felt was true, but he only thought I used him, in order to rebel, and be wild, before I had to marry Lucius. Perhaps, and I do pray that this is true, he put on that charade, just to make it easier for me to let go of him. Perhaps, but that was how Maximus was, always thinking of others. But if he did mean it, is it all true? Perhaps some of it is. Perhaps I am no better than that beggar women, I am just a dolled up girl in fined robes. But no matter how dolled or dressed up, I believe I played my part well. I hurt, and got hurt, but as an Empress, I read my lines well.   
I hope he loves me, how selfish I am. I know he loves her, his beautiful dark-haired wife, but, maybe he loved her as I loved Lucius. Respectfully, and distant, but still a form of love. But, not like the way I loved Maximus, truly, and with all my being. I truly hung on to the hope, that he loved me, but when he kissed me, it was as if, he really did love me. And I shall never forget that.   
As I look out from the palace, he cannot begin to fathom, what I would give to have him holding me now. Funny, that as soon as I found he loved me, I lost him. I cannot describe that pain in my heart, that regretfulness. But I refuse to dwell on the pain. I will not let the Fates win.  
I will continue to live, with the mask on, hiding my feelings, I will continue to play my part. As I will continue to do as he said I did, be strong for my son.   
But when I die, hopefully, I will enter Elysium, and the mask will crumble. The mask I had to wear for too long. I will become the woman I once was. And hopefully, he will see me, and know that I love him. And then, I will tell him everything, and pour out my heart to him. And then, then, he will understand and he will hold me, and tell me he always loved me.  
But this is only what I hope, my hope. My dream. But in truth, maybe when I die, I will not go to Elysium, for I hurt too many people. Perhaps I played my cruel part too well, for my own good. Maybe, I won't see him, and he will never understand, and never know how close I held him to my heart. Just that thought of never seeing him again, never beholding those beautiful brown eyes, tears my heart to pieces. But maybe he already knows. Maybe he understands. Perhaps, however, he never will. 


End file.
